


Thin Semantic Lines

by bloodstonepentagram



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, Eventual Romance, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Period-Typical Racism, more tags added as needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-12
Updated: 2014-01-07
Packaged: 2018-01-01 07:34:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1042104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloodstonepentagram/pseuds/bloodstonepentagram
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos, a man of science with a fascination for the occult, travels to London, where he meets Cecil, an eccentric socialite who moonlights as a monster hunter. Chaos and romance ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. If London Calls Don't Answer

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Victorian Monster Hunters AU](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/30665) by oxytrezart. 



> This is my first time writing historical fiction, so if you see any glaring anachronisms or inaccuracies, feel free to point them out to me. This is the first installment in what could potentially be a very long story. I hope you like it!
> 
> Also be sure to check out [That Night Vale Crystal](http://archiveofourown.org/works/1025379/chapters/2041232), another Victorian monster hunter AU fic that was here first and is probably much better.

Carlos stood outside the door, double-checking the address against the one he had written down. He had sent a letter telling the professor to expect him at this date, and had received a reply confirming the meeting, but he had been standing outside ringing the bell for a very long time now, and yet here he was, still standing stiffly on the doorstep in the uncomfortably chilly English weather.

He shuffled awkwardly for another minute or two. Then, looking surreptitiously over his shoulder to make sure that nobody was watching, he tested the doorknob. 

The door opened easily. He stole another quick look at the street outside, and then he slipped quickly inside.

“Hello?” he called cautiously, shutting the door behind him. “Professor? It’s Carlos de los Santos. Is anyone here?”

There was no answer. In fact, the house was completely silent. That was odd. From what he knew of the Professor, he lived alone, but employed several servants. And… Carlos pulled the letter out of his coat pocket and glanced over it again… They had most definitely arranged to meet here and now. Had he forgotten? Where had everyone gotten to?

Then he saw something on the floor. A thin trail of liquid. Petrol, perhaps? He hunched over, prodding at it, and discovered that it was actually very thick and viscous. He made a face, attempting to wipe it off on the floor and only succeeding in spreading it further over his fingers. He pulled a handkerchief out of a pocket and attempted to get the muck off of his hands.

Sticking the ruined handkerchief back in his pocket, he straightened. The goo seemed to lead off in a trail. Curiosity getting the better of him, Carlos decided to follow it.

The trail was thin but gradually widened as he went on. As he walked he took in the furnishings of the house; sparse, but comfortable, and cluttered with the sorts of things one would expect from a scholarly bachelor; that is to say, it was cluttered with books and papers. The trail eventually took him up what appeared to be servants’ stairs. Carlos was slightly concerned now, realizing that he had, technically, broken into a man’s house, but there was no point in turning back now, and he really wanted to know where the trail led.

It was thicker now, and messier. It occurred to Carlos that liquids didn’t generally flow in meandering trails like this. In fact, it almost seemed that this had been deliberately placed by someone, in order to lead him to something. Perhaps the Professor had left it for him? It was a strange thought, but he was a strange man.

He walked slowly up the stairs, jumping a few times when they creaked loudly under his footsteps. At the top, the trail was even wider now, splashing all over the walls. He walked over it, having to walk with effort now as it stuck to his shoes. He would have to get new ones now, wouldn’t he?

The trail ended at a door, which was slightly ajar. Carlos slowly nudged it open. Then he screamed.

The man in the room, or, that is to say, one of the men, straightened up, startled. He looked at Carlos in confusion. He was holding a vial, into which he appeared to be scooping the black substance that was now covering nearly every available surface. 

Lying on the bed in the middle of the room was the second man. The muck appeared to be pouring out of every orifice in his body. He was almost certainly dead.  
“Dios mío,” Carlos muttered, catching wind of a rotting smell. He took an involuntary step back.

The living man seemed to have regained his composure somewhat. “Hello,” he said in a deep, sonorous voice. “I suppose you were the one ringing the doorbell?”

“Who are you?” Carlos said. “What is this? Who…who is he?”

“Well,” said the man, carefully stoppering the vial, “I am Cecil Palmer. I haven’t the foggiest clue what ‘this’ is, but I intend to figure it out. And this unfortunate man is Professor Alistaire Rigby, who appears to have been dead for several days now.”

Carlos looked at the dead man with utter shock. “This is Professor Rigby? But…I was to meet with him today. We’ve been in correspondence for several years now. I was going to stay with him while I was in London…” He looked at Cecil in confusion. “Are you sure he’s dead?”

“See for yourself,” said Cecil, gesturing to the bed.

It wasn’t really necessary, but Carlos wanted to be entirely certain nonetheless. He felt the forehead, which was one of the few areas of uncovered skin. It was stone cold, and felt loose and rotten. He recoiled from it, gagging at the smell of death and strangeness.

“Come on,” Cecil said, walking toward the door. “I have some questions for you, and I think we could both use a bit of fresh air.” 

Carlos followed him downstairs and into a study. “The house is completely deserted,” Cecil said. ‘The servants appear to have disappeared. I only managed to track down one of their families, but they haven’t seen or heard from her in days. They’re very worried.” He said this matter-of-factly, and Carlos found his dry tone a little unsettling.

Cecil settled himself into a chair, and Carlos did the same.

“So,” Cecil said, “you say you’ve been in correspondence with Professor Rigby?”

“Yes,” Carlos said. “We’ve both been involved in similar areas of study. He told me about certain interesting phenomena that he’d observed in the area, and invited me to come and help him in his research.”

Cecil had pulled out a notebook, and was writing diligently, still keeping one eye on Carlos. “I see.” He cocked his head. “Your accent is lovely. It’s not Spanish, is it?”

Carlos shook his head. “Mexican.”

“That’s quite a long way to travel only to be faced with a disappointment like this,” Cecil said sympathetically. “It must have been quite a shock.”

Carlos nodded. “It was certainly not the welcome I was hoping for.”

“I’m very sorry,” he said. Oddly, it didn’t sound like a simple platitude. He really did seem genuinely apologetic.

“Thank you,” said Carlos. 

“May I ask,” Cecil added, returning to his notepad, “what area of study you and Professor Rigby were engaged in?”

Carlos looked away, faintly embarrassed. “I suppose you could say it was the study of the supernatural.”

“Ah, yes,” said Cecil, as if some great mystery had suddenly been solved. “That explains it.”

“What do you mean?” asked Carlos, frowning.

“Well,” Cecil said, “there are some hidden things that are merely waiting to be discovered. But there are others that prefer to stay lost. He appears to have run afoul of one of the latter.”

“What did this?” Carlos asked. “What could possibly do something like that?”

“That,” said Cecil with a flourish, “is what I am going to find out!"  
“But, won’t it kill you too?” said Carlos.

“I hope it won’t come to that,” said Cecil, sounding less concerned than Carlos thought he probably should. “I have some experience in these matters,” he added with authority.

That only raised further questions, questions that Carlos very badly wanted answers to, but he merely nodded.

Then Cecil said, “You’ve been working with him, haven’t you? How would you like to help me find the creature?”

That sounded dangerous. On the other hand, that sounded terribly interesting. “Really?” said Carlos.

“Of course! After all, it seems a pity to have come all this way for nothing. You can stay in my house. I have quite a few spare rooms. And I’m sure your input would be very valuable.” He leaned forward eagerly, giving Carlos a hopeful look.

This was not how Carlos had envisioned his day going, but he was intrigued by this strange man with this stranger offer. “Yes,” he said. “I would be happy to help. Thank you.”

Cecil’s face broke out into a wide grin. “I’m glad to hear it! In that case, Mr. de los Santos, welcome to London!”


	2. Fell in Love Instantly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil, Carlos and Dana discuss the Rigby case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was really hard to write for some reason; I went through two or three versions before settling on this one. I blame Cecil; he seems more interested in introspective moping than in advancing the plot. I love him, but he really needs to learn to focus.

Cecil was in love, and he couldn’t feel more terrible about it. What had he been thinking, inviting Carlos to stay with him? 

True, he had his justifications. Carlos was in need of a place to stay. He could be helpful in this investigation. It had even occurred to Cecil that he might be a potential suspect, although he didn’t think it was likely. He liked to think that he was a good judge of people, and Carlos had an endearingly innocent air about him.

But, Cecil knew, none of these were the real reason that he’d invited Carlos to stay with him. There was just some weakness in him that couldn’t bear the thought of letting this beautiful, curious man with the perfect hair get away. He knew he couldn’t count on Carlos to return his affections; surely such a perfect man couldn’t share his particular brand of infirmity. He resigned himself, as usual, to admiring from a distance, a notion that seemed much more romantic in theory than it was in practice.

But there was no time for self-indulgent moping. He had a case to solve.

He turned to Carlos, who was looking out the window of the carriage, appearing to be deep in thought.

Well, Cecil hated to interrupt him… No, no, Cecil, focus. 

He cleared his throat. “Mr. de los Santos,” he said, “you are privy to some of Professor Rigby’s research, aren’t you?”

Carlos seemed a little startled to be broken out of his reverie. “Well,” he said, clearing his throat a couple times, “He did share a little of his research with me, but he didn’t like to say too much in his letters. He promised to give me the full details when I arrived, but, well…” He made a helpless gesture.

“A pity,” Cecil said. “Well, I picked up some of his journals. You can look through them later.”

Carlos nodded, attention clearly drifting still. Cecil reluctantly left him to his thoughts, looking out the windows himself.

Finally they arrived back at Cecil’s house. It was, he realized, a very opulent house by most people’s standards, but it was very small and simple compared to the elaborate estates of many of his peers, and he was suddenly uncomfortably aware that despite the better efforts of his small staff, his study was probably extremely cluttered.

Leland, the newest in his ever-changing series of manservants, met them at the door, accepting without comment when Cecil explained that Carlos would need one of the spare rooms prepared for him. Leland was a good sort, and Cecil sincerely hoped he would keep the job for a while. Despite paying his staff twice what most people offered, he was finding a harder time filling vacancies lately; rumor apparently had it that his house was cursed. Of course, this wasn’t technically incorrect, which made Leland all the more valuable as an employee.

“Cecil?” said a voice suddenly, and Dana flounced eagerly into the entrance hall. 

“Hello!” Cecil said. “I have a sample for you to test! Mr. de los Santos, this is my ward, Dana Jones. Dana, this is Mr. Carlos de lot Santos. He is an associate of Professor Rigby’s and has agreed to help us solve this case.”

He let Dana make small talk for a bit, which mostly seemed to consist of Dana making friendly inquiries and Carlos answering them in as few words as possible. 

“Dana,” Cecil said finally, noticing that Carlos was starting to look a little uncomfortable with her incessant friendliness, “here’s that sample I mentioned.” He handed her the vial of tarry black substance from the crime scene. “Do you think you could go and have a look at it?”

“Right away, Cecil!” she said with a grin, taking the vial and heading off to her lab.

“Dana is a very talented chemist,” Cecil explained. “I’ve seen to it that she has all the best tutors.”

“How did she come into your care?” Carlos asked. Then he blushed, adding, “I’m sorry, that was a personal question…”

Oh dear Lord no, he was adorable when he was flustered. “Oh, no, not at all!” Cecil said quickly, trying to alleviate the man’s embarrassment somewhat, but them realizing that he’d effectively agreed to tell the story. Damn. Best make it short, then. “She’s actually my cousin,” Cecil said as casually as he could. “Illegitimate. Bit of a scandal, actually. But,” he said more definitively, “she’s like a daughter to me, especially after her father and mother died. She’s my only heir, and she means the world to me.”

He glanced over at Carlos, but his expression was once again difficult to read. 

“At any rate,” Cecil said, eager to change the subject, “I believe we have some journals to look through. Let me show you to my study.”

It was, as Cecil had feared, a horrid mess, but Carlos didn’t seem to notice. They sat on either side of an end-table near a fireplace, which Carlos looked at appreciatively. 

“Here were the books that looked like they’d been written in most recently,” Cecil said, pulling a stack of journals out of his briefcase. “You take half and I take half, and then we can trade. Tell me if you see something that looks important.”

He and Carlos both became quickly absorbed in the work of flipping through pages of spells, amateur grimoires, daybooks and more. Leland brought them tea at one point. They ate as they worked. Carlos, Cecil noted, chewed a bit louder than could be considered strictly polite. Unfortunately it did nothing to make him any less attractive. 

They were finally interrupted by Dana, bursting into the room with her usual energy. “I’ve examined the sample,” she said. 

“That was quick,” Cecil said with a frown.

“It wasn’t very complicated,” Dana said with a shrug. “It’s a mixture of ectoplasm and river water.”

“River water?”

“From the Thames, most likely. It would explain all the filth in it.”

“River water?” said Carlos, suddenly excited. He grabbed one of the journals he’d already looked through, flipping through it. “I noticed this earlier, but didn’t realize… But look.”

He held open a page of one of the grimoires. “Look, undines. Water spirits. And he circled it, and wrote something next to it.”

Cecil looked closer. ‘Katherine?’ it said. “Katherine?” he said. “Who could that be?” He turned to Carlos. “Did the Professor ever mention a Katherine to you?”

Carlos shook his head. “Not that I can recall,” he said. “I don’t think he had any family, and he wasn’t married.”

“Interesting,” Cecil said, half to himself. “I suppose we’ll have to ask around tomorrow.”

“What does it say about undines?” Dana asked, sitting across from the both of them. 

Carlos squinted at the book. “Not much,” he said. “They’re water spirits, a kind of elemental. They sometimes take the form of young women- I suppose that’s who he suspected this ‘Katherine’.” He looked up with a shrug. “Nothing else, I’m afraid.”

“Hm,” Cecil said thoughtfully. “Well, if she were the size of a young woman… There was rather a lot of the substance at the scene. It’s entirely possible that she was completely obliterated in the attack.”

“What,” Carlos said, shocked, “are you saying she just…burst open?”

“It’s likely,” Cecil said. “Probably forced herself down his throat first, not at all a pleasant thought, but it’s consistent with what we saw.”

“She made a trail,” Carlos muttered.

“Oh?” Cecil said.

He looked up. “It explains why the…substance moved in such a strange pattern. She was leaving a trail for us to find her.”

“Oh!” Cecil said. Interesting. He hadn’t noticed that. Carlos was so clever. _Come on, Cecil, there’s a murder to solve._

“But,” Dana said hesitantly, “wouldn’t that mean…”

“That she was still consciously able to move around in that form,” Carlos said. “It’s a possibility, at the very least.”

“It’s all over my equipment!” Dana yelped.

“Save a sample for observation!” Cecil called as she ran off. Then he rang for Leland, who arrived quickly, probably alerted by the racket Dana was making. “Send someone down to Inspector Harlan,” he said. “Tell him to keep a close eye on the Rigby house. They should take the usual precautions.” 

He left to take care of it. Bless him. Cecil really did hope he would last.

Carlos was frowning. “Something the matter?” Cecil asked.

“You said the servants were missing,” Carlos said.

“Ah, yes,” Cecil said. “We’ll have to account for them as well. I suppose that’s one more thing to investigate tomorrow.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” Carlos said. He yawned slightly, as if he’d just been reminded how tired he was. Dear God, he even looked good when he yawned. Cecil melted a little in spite of himself.

“I’ll have Leland show you to your room,” Cecil said, walking off. “Goodnight, Mr. de los Santos.”

He felt a little shiver of excitement when he heard Carlos reply, “Goodnight.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dana's backstory was another thing in this chapter that was hard for me to write. I was trying to use my limited knowledge of Victorian history to construct something halfway plausible. I figure Cecil is just eccentric enough to make it work. You'll probably be seeing a lot more of her, because I love her.


	3. Digging Deeper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio investigates Professor Rigby's house, and makes some interesting discovery. Gratuitous sexual tension abounds.

Carlos slept restlessly that night. He stayed up thinking for half the night, and when he finally drifted off he had a nightmare in which he was chased by a woman made of black mud. He woke with a start, and it took him hours to fall asleep again.

The next morning he sat down to breakfast, taking a cup of tea and wishing it were coffee. Cecil explained that Dana would be joining them eventually, and that she was often busy with something or other at odd hours. “Such a bright young thing,” he said with pride. 

Carlos eyed Cecil warily over his teacup. The Palmers were strange people, of that he was certain. Not unpleasantly so, of course; they were an interesting pair, and of course he appreciated their hospitality. However, he did have to admit that he questioned Cecil’s motives in inviting him.

Carlos’s family was definitively new money, but his businessman father’s fortune still counted for something, and there were many families eager to foist their daughters on Carlos hoping for a piece of it. Carlos had spent too much time dodging prospective fiancés and his eager family. He didn’t want or need a wife. She would only distract him from his research, and besides…

Well, no need to think about _that_.

He’d hoped to avoid that sort of thing now that he was in England, but the way Cecil had been looking at him lately- admiring, evaluating… Well, he’d better find a way to deter that sort of thinking, and soon.

“So, Mr. de los Santos,” Cecil began. Carlos cringed a bit at the formality. Mr. de los Santos was what American businessmen called his father, and it was still strange to be called that himself. “Please, call me Carlos,” he said.

Cecil’s expression turned radiant, and Carlos wondered if he’d made a miscalculation.

“Oh, of course!” he said. “Carlos, oh, um, you can call me Cecil, of course, oh…” He was…very flustered. Carlos considered asking if he was alright, but he decided that drawing attention to it would only make it worse. “Er…” He seemed to have lost his train of thought, but he quickly picked it up again. “Oh, yes, Carlos…” He said his name slowly, as if savoring it. Now that was just…odd. “Carlos, what do you say about returning to Professor Rigby’s house today and having another look around? We have some interviews to conduct, and hopefully my police contact has been keeping an eye on the ectoplasm for us.”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Carlos said. He had mixed feelings about returning to the house. On the one hand, the idea of a creature made of that black sticky substance terrified him. He could just imagine it forcing itself up around him, shoving its way down his throat, choking him and constricting him from the inside out…

On the other hand, though, _living water_! A creature that could shift and manipulate its shape, disguise as a human… How did it work? Where did it come from? What did it want? These were exactly the kinds of exciting, impossible questions that had drawn Carlos to this field of study in the first place.

Dana walked in then, looking slightly disheveled and very tired, looking like she’d just been through something long and tiring, but rewarding. Carlos recognized that look anywhere; he’d seen it in his own reflection often enough. He’d never seen it on a woman before, but it suited Dana quite well.

“The sample is mostly inert,” she explained blearily, “but I can’t tell if it’s dead or if it’s just toying with me.”

“I’m sure Inspector Harlan would have sent us word if it were doing anything strange at the house,” Cecil said. “You can collect more samples when we go down there, if you like.”

Dana shook her head. “No, I’m already a little concerned about the one I have now. Either it’s completely incapable of motion or it’s trying to escape, and until I know which one I don’t want any more of them to deal with.”

Carlos made a mental note to get a better look at the stuff the next time he had the chance.

The house, when they got there, looked much the same as it had when they’d left, although Carlos spotted a couple of men in police uniforms milling around, attempting somehow to look inconspicuous. Cecil gave them a friendly nod as they entered.

The black trail was still there, but… 

“Does it look different than it did yesterday?” Carlos asked hesitantly.

Cecil frowned. He crouched down, inspecting it levelly. “A little smaller, maybe? As if it were trying to retract itself.”

“Do you think it’s re-forming?” Dana asked.

“Let’s hope not,” Cecil said cheerfully, straightening back up. 

“Right,” Dana said, “I’d like to see the body now.”

Carlos looked at Cecil in mild surprise, but Cecil seemed to have no problem with taking his young ward to see a couple-days-old corpse. 

“I’ll go with you,” Cecil told her. “There should be two of us in case something tries to sneak up on you.”

“I’d like to search the rest of the house,” Carlos said. There were some things he was curious about.

Cecil and Dana headed up the stairs while Carlos began to search through the ground floor.

He poked around in all the rooms he hadn’t seen yet, glancing at papers and flipping through books, wondering idly if it would be wrong of him to take a couple. It wasn’t likely that anyone else would want them, after all, but it felt wrong to rob a dead man’s library. 

He looked around more, but found no mention anywhere of undines, or of Katherine.

He continued into the servants’ quarters, which would be best described as ‘small’, or possibly ‘sparse’. They were, of course, completely empty. 

The rooms appeared to have been deserted in a hurry. Clothes were hung and folded neatly next to neatly made beds. 

One room was full of men’s suits. The odd book or pack of matches lay out on one of the bedside tables. Carlos looked around a bit, but found nothing much of interest, beyond the fact that wherever these people had gone, they didn’t seem to have taken anything with them.

Another room was full of women’s clothing. Carlos hovered awkwardly for a moment, feeling odd about disturbing a female space. _This is for scientific purposes_ , he reminded himself, beginning to look around.

These rooms were much barer, lacking even the few personal effects of the men’s quarters. Judging from the number of beds, three women had lived here. Odd that not even one of them had had a journal, or… Carlos absently racked his brain for things women had. Ribbons, maybe?

Still, there didn’t seem to be anything of note here. He was about to leave when he noticed something. 

On one of the dresses, a name tag stuck out, probably put there to differentiate the identical uniforms.

The name, sewn into the tag with hasty embroidery, was Katherine.

Carlos’s breath caught in his throat, his mind suddenly whirring to life. She’d disguised herself as a servant. Of course. And he’d begun to suspect her… But this meant she’d sought him out, didn’t it? Why did she want to kill him? And was she the only undine, or were the other two undines as well? What happened to the male servants?

Just then, Carlos heard screams from upstairs. _Cecil and Dana!_ He began sprinting down the hall, heading towards the nearest staircase.

He was out of breath by the time he got to the Professor’s bedroom. Cecil was holding his index finger to his mouth, looking traumatized, while Dana stood threateningly, holding a gun on the black goop coating the walls and ceiling. She turned, startled, when she heard him approach, but relaxed when she saw who it was.

“What happened?” Carlos said. “Are you alright?”

“It bit me!” Cecil said, sounding a little dazed.

“He cut his finger on some paper,” Dana explained. “Then the substance jumped out at him. I think it wanted the blood.”

Cecil frowned. “You can’t have that,” he said, addressing the floor. “I’m still using it.”

“Shouldn’t we…leave now?” Carlos hazarded, beginning to back away slowly.

Dana looked pointedly at Cecil, nodding towards the door. He made an exasperated gesture and exited, Dana following, still keeping her gun trained at the slime.

“Can I see?” Carlos asked, pointing to Cecil’s hand. 

“Oh, um, of course.” Was he _blushing_? 

Carlos took Cecil’s hand. There, on his finger, was a tiny gash, a perfectly ordinary papercut. Nothing looked out of the ordinary. Also, Carlos was certain that the sudden elevation in his heartrate was due to his sprint up the stairs, and had absolutely nothing to do with the fact that he was holding Cecil’s hand.

“It… It looks normal,” he said, recoiling as he felt his face heat up. “Perfectly normal.”

“Oh,” Cecil said, rubbing his hands together and looking at the floor. “Good. That’s… Good.”

Damn damn damn. Carlos hastily organized his thoughts. “Oh!” he said. “I’ve discovered something. But,” he threw a sideways glance at the room, “I think we should discuss it elsewhere.”

They went downstairs and outside, closing their coats to the cold air. The cab they’d arrived in was waiting for them. Before getting in it, Cecil called over the policemen outside, saying something to them from a distance. Finally he joined Carlos and Dana in the carriage. As they began to move away from the house, Carlos explained to them what he’d found.

“Do you think they were targeting him for some reason?” Dana asked. 

“It’s likely,” Cecil said. “Perhaps some aspect of his research made them wary of him. What I’d like to know is, why did they kill him in such a messy, noticeable way?”

Noticeable… Carlos remembered the trail that the creature had made, leading him to the body. “They were sending a message.”

Cecil cocked his head. He appeared to be thinking.

“A message to whom?” Dana said.

Cecil shrugged. Then he looked at Carlos. “They must have known that you would be coming. Tell us, again, what, specifically were you and Professor Rigby studying?”

Carlos felt tense suddenly. Him? But… Why? “We… He was telling me about…about demons,” he said. “Exorcisms, specifically. He mentioned a few places in the area that he suspected of demonic inhabitance.”

“Demons, hm?” Cecil said, tapping his fingers on his knee.

“Undines aren’t demons, though,” Dana said. “They’re elemental spirits. They’re completely different. The ectoplasm isn’t even the same texture.”

“Were they protecting the demons for some reason?” Cecil said.

“But why would they do that?” Carlos asked.

“No idea,” Cecil said, grinning faintly. “Luckily, we have an obvious starting point. Carlos, what were those areas the Professor told you about?”


	4. Closer, Closer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Carlos discuss the case, causing some unexpected emotions to surface.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what to say about this one. I started with the title, and things may have gotten a little out of hand. I really have no excuses. Just...just see for yourself.

Carlos sat in Cecil’s study, going through his letters and making a list of all the possible demon sightings Professor Rigby had told him about. When he was done, he brought the list to Cecil, looking exhausted.

“You should take a rest,” Cecil said with concern. “I’ll take it from here.”

Carlos refused to leave the study ( _so industrious_ , Cecil thought), so Cecil let him sit there while he pulled out a map of the city and began marking it with little x’s.

There were sixteen total locations spread out throughout the city. Cecil recognized one of them- he and Dana had just performed an exorcism there the week before. He put a little check next to it on Carlos’s list.

He looked up. Carlos had dozed off in his chair, his suit slightly rumpled. Cecil smiled fondly, then felt a bit guilty. He turned quickly back to his work, making an effort to be quiet so as not to wake his sleeping companion.

He frowned, looking hopefully for a pattern in the x’s before deciding with a sigh that there probably wasn’t one. Clearly he needed to find a new approach. 

He looked unblinkingly at the map for several seconds. He picked up his pen again, circling all the marks that were near either the Professor’s house or the river, and paying special attention to the ones that were near to both of them.

Carlos woke up with a sudden start, looking embarrassed. Cecil pretended not to notice as he attempted to subtly straighten his clothing and stretch, although he couldn’t entirely suppress the fond smile that crept across his face.

Carlos coughed awkwardly. “Have you, ah, made any progress?”

“Oh, yes,” Cecil said brightly. “Your research has been very helpful so far. Here, have a look.” He passed the map over to Carlos.

Carlos looked it over. “Yes, of course… It would make sense for it to be near the water…” He pointed to one of the x’s. “What is this place?”

Cecil moved closer, so that both of them could look, answering Carlos’s questions to the best of his ability, listening to his input. Carlos pulled out some of the letters, looking through to see the contexts that each of the locations were mentioned in, and gradually the two whittled the list down to a few likely candidates. 

Eventually Cecil noticed that their knees were touching, and tried to act like he hadn’t. Hopefully the room’s light was now dim enough to disguise the deep blush he could feel setting in on his face.

Luckily, Carlos didn’t seem to notice, or if he did, he gave no sign of it. 

“So…” Cecil said, making an effort to seem casual, “what do you think our first step should be?”

“Well,” Carlos said, and oh, good god, his _voice_ was so silky and beautiful, “I suppose we ought to look in on some of these locations. I take it you have some experience with exorcising demons?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” Cecil said, a little more breathlessly than was ideal. 

“Good, good,” Carlos said, avoiding eye contact for some reason. He leaned over, pointing at a place on the map, and, incidentally, bringing their bodies even closer together. Cecil hoped Carlos didn’t notice his suddenly erratic breathing, or the sweat currently beading on his palms.

“I think,” Carlos said, “that we should start in this area, and if that yields no results then we can work our way outwards…” He traced his index finger across a wide swath of the map, and Cecil felt his breath hitch in his throat.

The one part of Cecil’s mind not utterly consumed with highly unwanted thoughts, the part that was actually paying attention to Carlos’s plan, agreed that it was, in fact, a good plan, and so Cecil nodded. “Yes,” he said, as firmly as he was able. “This is a good plan.”

Carlos looked up at him, pulling away slightly, but still leaning slightly forward, as if he couldn’t quite muster the energy to sit upright again. “This… This will be very dangerous,” he said, fixing Cecil with a worried stare. “Demons are unpredictable, and there are so many of them… Mathematically speaking, it’s…well, it doesn’t look good.”

Cecil’s heart melted a little. Really, it must be almost entirely liquid by now, he thought distantly. “Oh, Carlos,” he said, leaning in a little and, scarcely able to believe that he was doing so, placing his hand reassuringly on the other man’s. “Please don’t worry. Dana and I know how to deal with demons. Between the three of us, I’m certain we’ll have no trouble.”

There was a taught, breathy silence then, a silence that Cecil clung to, fearful of what would happen if one of them broke it. 

There was a knock on the study door, and the two of them jumped in their seats, pulling away from each other, faces reddening. Cecil tried quickly to compose himself. 

“Come in!” he said.

Leland opened the door. “You’ve received a message from Inspector Harlan,” he said, walking over and handing Cecil a folded slip of paper. 

“Thank you, Leland,” Cecil said, accepting the paper. He opened it, conscious of Carlos’s curious, slightly troubled gaze, and began to read.

_Mr. Palmer,_ the message read, _whatever was in the Rigby house has escaped. Two of my men are badly injured. I am withdrawing surveillance of the area effective immediately. Come see me tomorrow for a more detailed report._

“Oh,” Cecil said, passing the paper to Carlos. “That is not good.”

Carlos read it quickly, then looked up. “The blood,” he said. 

Cecil was confused for a moment, then realized what he meant, feeling suddenly awestruck. “You don’t think..?”

“Call it a hypothesis,” Carlos said. “Perhaps Miss Dana could tell us something more on the subject.”

“Of course,” Cecil said. “She’s in her lab, most likely…”

Once the three of them were assembled, Dana held up a vial of ectoplasm. 

“This,” she said, “is my original ectoplasm sample. This…” She pulled out another vial. It was also full of black liquid, but it was behaving differently now. It moved, coiling and uncoiling in inky tendrils, beating against the vial’s seal as if trying to escape. “This is a sample I procured after Cecil’s mishap this afternoon.”

Carlos nodded, face drawn. 

“It used my blood as…as a source of power?” Cecil asked, feeling oddly violated. 

“So it seems,” Dana said, holding the vial up to eye level curiously. 

“Where do you think it’s gone?” Carlos asked. “Back to the river?”

“Or back to the demon that sent it,” Cecil said. “Whichever one that might be.”

Dana looked up suddenly, face lighting up. “Maybe we can find out,” she said. She shook the vial, grinning. “This is certainly trying to go somewhere, isn’t it?”

“That stuff can move quickly,” Cecil cautioned. “We can’t let it get away before we have a chance to follow it.”

“Give me some time,” Dana said. “I’m sure I can come up with something.”

Cecil nodded, satisfied. Dana was very reliable when it came to this sort of thing, and she already had that gleam in her eye that indicated that she was working out an interesting puzzle. 

“Good, good,” he said. He cast a regretful glance at Carlos, but he was afraid that moment had long since ended. “Well, it seems that we have a busy day ahead of us tomorrow. I believe I’ll turn in for the night.”

He made his way upstairs, footsteps leaden with anticipation and fear.

That night, Cecil had the old, familiar nightmare. He was running through his family’s estate, trying to hide from the flames that licked every flammable surface. He heard screaming. His mother. His brother. He wanted to turn back, but he knew, somewhere deep down, that it was too late. If he turned back, if he stopped, it would catch him.

Then, in front of him, staring him dead in the face, he saw it. The mirror. He looked into it, and he screamed.

He woke in a cold sweat, bedclothes tangled around him, heart racing. He cast his eyes around the empty room, knowing, with that chilly late-night logic, that he would see something in the shadows, watching him. 

Of course, there was nothing. He straightened the sheets and lay back down, trying to relax, wishing hopelessly for something comforting, something human, to shield himself from the oppressive emptiness of the dark room.

Eventually, somehow, he slept.


	5. Whisper Dark Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Carlos talk to Inspector Earl Harlan. Carlos learns a little about their past together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this chapter is kind of short and not very plot-relevant. I've been busy with finals and I wanted to give you guys something. I'll have more writing time after this week, though, so you can expect longer, more frequent updates then. For now, I hope you enjoy...this thing.

Cecil asked Carlos to come meet with Inspector Harlan that morning. He was reluctant to go alone, for some reason, and Dana was still hard at work on her device. Carlos couldn’t think of any reason to refuse, and so, reluctantly, he agreed to go.

It wasn’t that he wanted to avoid Cecil, but he had very nearly done something last night that he would have strongly regretted, and he would very much like to ensure that it didn’t happen again.

He kept a measured distance from Cecil as they made their way to the place where Inspector Harlan conducted his…unofficial business.

The police, Cecil explained on the way there, were not officially aware of the existence of paranormal phenomena. However, they still wished to keep tabs on the supernatural happenings in London. This was where officers like Inspector Harlan came in; they kept an eye out for anything unusual, both on the streets and within their fellow officers’ official reports, and passed anything of potential interest along to one of the civilian investigators in their network.

“I’ve been working with Inspector Harlan for…quite some time,” Cecil said, refusing to make eye contact. Carlos wondered if there was something Cecil wasn’t telling him, or if he was just acting on the general air of awkwardness that surrounded the pair of them today.

Inspector Harlan was waiting for them in the back room of a small, dingy inn in a part of town that was full of small houses and disheveled-looking children. 

Carlos looked at some of the children as he passed. Some scattered, skittish, while others stood staring at him as he and Cecil walked by. He had the uncomfortable feeling that all eyes were on him.

The inn itself was dark, a combination of the clouds outside and the shortage of windows within. It was lit dimly with a soft glow of lantern light, which cast unsettling shadows in the corners of the room.

Cecil walked straight through, ignoring the curious glances of the room’s handful of occupants, and knocked on a door in the back, entering without waiting for an answer. Carlos rushed to follow him before the door closed behind them.

Inspector Earl Harlan was a surprisingly mild-mannered-looking man, thin, almost scrawny, even, with an unremarkable face and an expression that was pleasant, if somewhat bland. He looked entirely at home in his police uniform, and Carlos got the impression that he enjoyed the authority it gave him. 

“Inspector,” Cecil said with a stiff nod.

“Mr. Palmer,” he returned, and for a moment his expression turned hard, cold even. Then he turned his attention to Carlos. “And this is..?” he added, appearing, quite inexplicably, to be angry at Carlos.

“This is Mr. Carlos de los Santos,” Cecil said, and Carlos could have sworn that he was angry too. “He is a colleague. He is helping me investigate the Rigby case.”

“Ah,” he said dryly, giving them a disbelieving look. Carlos had the sudden, unnerving feeling that the man could read his mind, that he knew somehow about the thoughts that Carlos had been having. _Act natural,_ he thought desperately, trying to affect a cool, professional air.

“You called us here to talk about something?” Cecil said, raising an eyebrow, clearly seething. 

“Yes, the Rigby house,” the Inspector said, toying with a penknife as he spoke. “Last night, some creature broke out of it.” He looked up, fixing Cecil with a sharp glare. “Two of my men were wounded. One might not pull through. He’s only fifteen years old.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Cecil said, voice softening, although his stony expression didn’t falter. “I will pay for any required medical treatments, of course. And…funeral expenses, should it be necessary.”

The policeman nodded curtly. “Their families will be happy to hear it.”

The tension in the air was almost palpable, and Carlos wished that they could wrap up their business and leave. He was relieved when Cecil said, “The creature. What did it look like? Where did it go?”

The inspector shuffled some papers on his desk, selecting one and reading off it. “It was described by most of the witnesses as being a half-formed man, or possibly a woman, whose body was either covered in or composed of a black substance, possibly mud or tar. It attacked and then ran off. It was difficult to see in the dark.” He offered the paper. “Here’s the full report.”

“Thank you,” Cecil said stiffly, taking the papers.

The inspector got up to show them out. As they left, the Inspector held Carlos back.

“Inspector..?” he began, but he was quickly cut off.

“It isn’t any of my business, but look out for Ce- Mr. Palmer, would you? I worry about him sometimes.” 

Carlos looked into his incredibly earnest face, completely caught off guard. He had no idea how to respond to that. He nodded, which seemed to be enough, as the inspector loosened his grip, letting Carlos escape.

“I apologize,” Cecil said outside, looking embarrassed. “I’m sure that was uncomfortable for you. Earl and I have a bit of a history…”

“Yes,” said Carlos with feeling. “I had noticed.”

There was a pause, in which Carlos tried to temper his natural curiosity with his sense of decorum. He failed.  
“Did the two of you have some falling-out, or..?”

Cecil smiled weakly. “You could say that.” He looked off into the distance for a moment. “I suppose we all have some secrets,” he said.

Carlos nodded slowly.

“Well, Earl knows…quite a few of mine.” He frowned. “Enough to destroy me, should the wrong people hear them.”

Carlos remembered the inspector’s parting words. “I don’t think that he would do that,” he said.

“No,” Cecil said, looking away. “No, he never would. And therein lies the problem, I think.”

Carlos didn’t understand what Cecil was talking about at all, but he was afraid to pry any further.

“Well,” Cecil said, suddenly cheerful again, “we’d better go see how Dana’s getting on, shouldn’t we?”

Carlos followed, shaking his head at this odd enigma of a man, quickening his pace to catch up to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Join me in the next chapter when, hopefully, we will return to the actual plot! ^_^'


	6. Smoke on the Water

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trio use Dana's tracking device to locate the undines' lair. Lots of things happen very quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer, which was mainly to suit the flow of the narrative but has the added bonus of making up for the last chapter being so short. I hope you like it!

“You’re here!” Dana said, running up to Cecil and Carlos in excitement as soon as they entered the house. She was holding a glass ball on a chain and beaming.

“You’ve finished it?” Cecil said eagerly.

“Yes! I started drawing up blueprints for a some simple mechanical devices, but then I realized that the simplest solution is usually the best, so I put some of the ectoplasm in a ball and made a pendulum! Watch!”

Dana gently lowered the sphere, holding it lightly by the chain. The ball began swinging back and forth, clearly trying to lurch in one specific direction.

“Of course!” Carlos murmured, looking at the pendulum. 

“Excellent work, Dana!” Cecil said, grinning. “Well, if that’s done, let me get my equipment and we can begin the search!”

“What, right now?” Carlos asked, sounding startled.

“Of course,” Cecil said. “We should go while it’s still daylight out. Who knows how many people could die if we don’t catch it soon?”

“Yes, of course,” Carlos said quickly, blushing. “I didn’t mean-“ _Oh, he was so-_ No, no, best not to think of that right now. Or ever. 

“Yes, yes,” Cecil said, coughing quickly. “Um. Let me just go get…the…um.” He left before things could get any more awkward.

His bag, a toolkit full of the necessary tools of his trade, was sitting in a corner of his study. He checked quickly to make sure that everything was in place, refreshing his holy water stores with the jug in his cabinet before running back out to Carlos and Dana.

“Let the hunt begin!” he said, flourishing dramatically. Dana rolled her eyes. Carlos just looked puzzled.

“Oh, just come on,” Cecil said, deflating slightly.

Unfortunately a carriage would have been impractical, so the three of them walked. Hopefully the gathering clouds would not unleash the rain they threatened any time soon. Cecil was distantly aware of people staring at them as they walked down the street seemingly at random, following the directions of the dangling glass ball. Cecil couldn’t imagine what they found so interesting about it. Some people needed to learn to mind their own business. Honestly.

They walked for a very long time. Cecil felt his bag growing heavy in his arm, so he switched it. Eventually Carlos noticed him switching back and forth and offered to carry it for a while. Cecil tried not to swoon as he handed it over, shaking out his cramping hand.

Dana, despite having easily the most cumbersome clothing, kept the lead, although Cecil saw her trip on her long hemline once or twice. He was impressed by her fortitude, but was slightly concerned that she might drop the pendulum and shatter it. Then he noticed that she had the chain wrapped tightly around her wrist and that her first instinct every time she tripped seemed to be to cradle the glass ball in her hand, and he decided to stop worrying. After all, this was Dana he was thinking about. Surely she of all people had proven herself trustworthy on the job.

The pendulum seemed at first to be leading them around at random, and Cecil worried it wasn’t working. But as they continued to follow it, sometimes having to take circuitous routes, Cecil realized where it was heading.

“This is one of the locations the Professor mentioned!” he said to Carlos. 

“Where is it?” Carlos asked, eyes not leaving the pendulum swinging from Dana’s hand.

“I don’t know,” Cecil admitted. “But I recognized the area. We’re near the river. I guess we’ll find out when we get there.”

“Right,” Carlos said, running a hand through his perfect hair. Not that Cecil noticed. 

“Oh!” Dana said, and Carlos and Cecil turned to see that the pendulum was now swinging rapidly in the direction of an old, decrepit-looking building. 

Cecil noticed suddenly that the three of them were the only people in sight. In the heart of London, well… That was enough to give him pause.

“Let’s go,” Dana said, lowering her voice to almost a whisper. Carlos and Cecil nodded their assent, and the three of them began to cautiously edge up to the building. The pendulum began swinging madly, and Dana clutched it in her hand to stop it.

There was a door, and as Cecil crept up to it, he found that it swung open easily to his touch. He held up a hand to stop Carlos and Dana, and gestured silently for the bag. Carlos held it open for him as he selected a book and a bottle of holy water. Dana pulled out a bottle and a jar of salt, and Carlos opted for a cross, still holding the bag with his other hand. Only then did the three of them edge forward into the dimly lit building.

The door, predictably, slammed shut behind them, and Cecil saw as he looked over his shoulder that the wall was lined with black ectoplasm. It began twisting before his eyes, shaping itself into a human form. All around them, similar shapes began to manifest. Gradually, they resolved themselves into the forms of young women.

The trio moved into a circle, protecting each other’s backs as the undines began to circle them.

“Hello,” Cecil said, offering a weak smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you…”

“Ah, yes, Mr. Palmer,” one of the women said with a predatory smile of her own. “I believe I’ve already had the pleasure of meeting you. However, I’ll forgive you for not recognizing me, as I was somewhat indisposed at the time.”

“Ah. Miss Katherine, I presume?”

She smiled thinly. “Correct. Of course, Katherine is not my real name. She was merely a useful alias.”

“Yes, of course,” Cecil said, aware of the other undines moving in his peripheral vision. He felt Carlos and Dana stiffening at his back, and he tensed as well. “That was quite a clever way to reach Professor Rigby, I must say. And very neat.”

“I am flattered, Mr. Palmer,” she said dryly.

“One detail has escaped me, unfortunately,” Cecil said, adjusting his grip on the holy water vial in his hand, wondering suddenly whether it would be effective against water spirits. They should have done more research into the undines’ weaknesses before coming. Still, no time to over think things now.

“Oh?” she said, arching an eyebrow.

“Oh, yes, just one small detail. I don’t suppose you would be willing to enlighten me.”

“I suppose that depends upon the question,” she said.

“There were men in the house as well, were there not?” Cecil said. “What became of them?”

She smiled, and this time it reached her eyes. Cecil felt a chill run down his spine.

“Perhaps a practical demonstration would be of more use,” she said, licking her lips.

Cecil felt a faint tingling, one that he recognized from hard-one experience as the presence of magic. He didn’t feel any other effects, though, and didn’t see anything happen. He looked suspiciously at the undine, noticing dimly that she was really very attractive. That was an odd thing to think. Still…

“Dana!” Carlos said suddenly. “What are you doing?” There was a thump, and a sharp cracking sound.

Cecil turned, seeing Dana walk straight towards the undines lining her side of the room. She had dropped everything she was holding; the now empty pendulum lay shattered on the floor. She seemed unresponsive, entranced, even.

“Dana!” he cried, running to grab her at the same time that Carlos did. They each caught an arm, holding her back as she began to struggle against them.

The undines looked momentarily puzzled. Then Katherine said, “No matter. Seize them. Kill the foreigner.”

Cecil felt like he’d been struck. “No!” he cried. Still holding down the struggling Dana with one hand, he uncapped the bottle of holy water with his teeth. He waved it threateningly at the approaching undines, splashing some at them.

They laughed, stepping right through it, their feet absorbing the water like sponges.

“We’re not demons, foolish man,” one of them said teasingly. “Water is our element.”

They similarly laughed off Carlos’s cross, knocking it from his hand, trapping the trio in a tight circle. Cecil tried to fight them off, but it was like hitting a pond; they merely rippled and re-formed around his limbs as he struck at them.

Then out of the corner of Cecil’s eye he saw Carlos fumbling for something as he desperately tried to hold the creatures off. As they fell on him, he shoved it at Cecil. “Take…” he said, before one the creatures wrapped her arms around his mouth, drowning him with her own body.

“ _Carlos!_ ” Cecil cried, but Carlos, face reddening, only gestured at the item in Cecil’s hand.

It was a matchbook.

“Of course!” Cecil said, fumbling for one, keeping it out of reach of the undines for fear of getting it wet. He tried once, twice, three times, finally coercing his shaking hands into striking it properly. The match flared to life.

Cecil waved it at Carlos’s attacker, who shrieked and backed away, skin steaming. Carlos coughed up a bit of water, taking in gasping lungfuls of air. Unfortunately, the match quickly guttered out. Cecil lit another one, then reached a hand into his bag. Where were they…

Aha. His hands closed around the smooth cylinder of wax, and he pulled out the candle and lit it. He passed it to Carlos, locating another one. They waved them in the faces of the undines, who hissed and backed away.

In the midst of the turmoil, however, they lost track of Dana.

“Dana!” Cecil said, noticing her walking into the midst of the undines encircling them. “Dana, stop!”

“It’s no use!” Carlos said. “They have her under some sort of spell. She won’t listen.”

“No!” Cecil said. “This is Dana. Dana! Listen to me! They’re trying to control you! You can’t let them! Fight them off! Dana!”

She looked momentarily troubled, but the undines surrounded her, whispering to her, smiling triumphantly at Cecil.

“You’ve lost, Mr. Palmer,” one of them purred.

“No!” he said. “Dana, you can fight them! They’re in your head, but you are the most clever, headstrong girl I know! You can fight them! You have to fight!”

Just then, just before the undines engulfed her completely, Dana screwed up her face in concentration. Then her eyes cleared. “Cecil!” she gasped.

“Dana!” Cecil answered, punching through the wall with his candle in hand, pulling her back into their circle.

“We can’t hold them off forever,” said Carlos, voice still hoarse from his near-drowning. 

“There’s only one thing we can do,” Dana said, jutting her chin out fiercely. She grabbed the candle from Cecil’s hand, too quickly for him to even react. Then she snatched the book that he was still holding. 

“Dana, what are you doing?” he said as she set the candle’s burning wick against the book’s pages. “Stop that! That’s my only copy! Dana!”

Ignoring him completely, she tossed the burning book over the undines’ heads. It landed with a muffled thud, and suddenly half the room was up in flames.

“Old tarps,” Dana said. “I saw them when I was over there. We should run now.”

As they charged, candles first, through the ring of panicked water spirits, Cecil huffed, “That was so irresponsible! You could light the entire neighborhood on fire, and then what?”

They burst out the front door, which was no longer locked, and pulled it shut behind them. “Look at those clouds,” Dana said, pointing upwards. “It’s going to rain soon. The fire won’t spread.”

“You don’t know that,” Cecil huffed. Then he turned to Carlos, who was bent over, wheezing slightly. “Are you hurt?” He took him by the arm, letting the other man lean on him. 

“No, I’m…perfectly fine,” Carlos said, leaning gratefully against Cecil, who tried to hold himself steady despite the fact that his knees had just gone very weak.

The three of them, after stepping back to a safe distance, watched the building slowly go up in flames. As Dana had predicted, it soon began to rain, a heavy downpour that put out the worst of the fire. They stayed, paying no mind to the drenching they were getting, and watched the fires rise up and die again. Carlos leaned his head on Cecil’s shoulder, and Cecil felt his pulse quicken.

Gradually, the rain slowed. They could see nothing stirring inside.

“Is it over?” Dana asked finally.

Cecil was just about to answer when he was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Murderers,” Katherine hissed. They turned, and she was behind them, face streaked with tears. She must have gotten out ahead of them, Cecil thought.

She was holding something, a large, cracked stone, one that glittered in the dim light.

“ _Magister mea sororibus vindice!_ ” she cried, turning her head skyward.

The ground beneath them began to rumble, and a dark mist rose up around the undine.

A deep, droning voice emanated from the mist. YOU HAVE DESTROYED MY LOYAL SLAVES. YOU WILL BE DESTROYED AS BEFITS MY ENEMIES.

“Demons,” Cecil muttered, helping Carlos to his feet, “are _so_ dramatic.”

“The worst,” he agreed.

Dana stepped forward, holding Cecil’s bag. “I think,” she said, “that we are probably going to need this.”


	7. Louder than Words

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil, Carlos and Dana finally confront the demon. And a few other things as well.

Carlos steadied himself, looking in awe and fear at the cloud of smoke rising up around the undine. It billowed upwards, beginning to glow a deep, ominous red.

Dana ran in front of them, and he saw that she was holding chalk, and was drawing a circle around the three of them. She was muttering something that he recognized as a Latin incantation, although he couldn’t quite make out the words.

“Good thinking, Dana,” Cecil said.

She managed to get the circle closed before the demon had fully manifested itself, but just barely. The fog billowed around them, stopping right at the edge of the circle, creating a swirling vortex of light and colors that enveloped them completely.

“Well,” Cecil said, looking at the demon, which was now pulsing with an intense green light, “this is going to complicate things.”

They were on the wrong side of the circle. To be sure, Dana’s quick thinking had saved them from near-certain death or possession, but now they were trapped until the demon decided to leave. 

“What else do you have in that bag of yours?” Carlos asked, hoping that Cecil and Dana between them would have something of use. 

Cecil pawed through it thoughtfully. “More holy water,” he said, “a book of exorcisms, albeit one much more limited and much less rare than one I may or may not have recently lost to a fire…”

“You’re welcome for saving your lives twice,” Dana said primly.

“…salt, silver, another cross… Nothing else of much use, I’m afraid.”

“Alright,” Carlos said, sitting down to think.

In a voice that surrounded them from all sides, the demon spoke. YOU CANNOT HIDE FOREVER, MORTALS. I AM ETERNAL. YOU INHABIT BODIES OF FLESH. I NEED ONLY WAIT HERE AS YOUR MORTAL FORMS WHITHER AND DIE.

Argh. Carlos tried desperately to come up with some kind of clever plan. Cecil and Dana, he knew, were likely doing the same.

He reached for the book of exorcisms, flipping through it. It was written in a mixture of English and Latin, both of which he was fairly familiar with. 

As Cecil had implied, the rituals in the book were fairly simplified and specific. All required the demon to be trapped in a circle, and almost all acted on the assumption that the demon was possessing someone. Additionally, most required a variety of ingredients; incense, oils, a priest…

Then he saw a page that caught his attention. It was simple. In fact, they had everything they needed right here. Only…

No. They couldn’t stay trapped here forever. They could only last here a few days with the supplies they had, and they would only grow weaker the longer they were trapped without food. And that was assuming that it didn’t rain again and wash away their circle first. No, it was better to get this over with quickly.

Carlos marked the page, picking up a vial of holy water. “I have an idea,” he whispered to Cecil and Dana. Then, before they could react, he turned to face the currently orange cloud that spun around them. 

“You sent your monsters after Professor Rigby!” he shouted. “You had them leave me a message, didn’t you? You were after me next. Well, come and get me!” And with that, he upturned the vial over the thin chalk line, breaking the circle.

The cloud rushed in, burning his eyes, his throat, his lungs. He choked, as for the second time that day he was nearly drowned by a creature forcing itself down his throat.

Then, suddenly, everything became…distant. He was in his head, looking out of his eyes, but there was something else at the reins.

FOOL, he said, in a voice that was not his own. YOUR OWN HANDS WILL KILL THEM WHILE YOU WATCH. THEN I WILL KILL YOU AS WELL.

His head turned, taking in Cecil and Dana, who, despite looking stricken, had already leapt into action. _Yes,_ cheered a part of Carlos’s mind that was still his own. They seemed to have gotten the idea.

Dana and Cecil had leapt out of the circle, and Dana was already filling in the gap that Carlos had created. He and the demon were trapped inside.

The demon hissed, the sound echoing oddly inside his own head, and inhuman sound pulled from a human mouth.

Cecil was holding the book, and appeared to have found the page that Carlos had marked. “Don’t worry, Carlos,” he said with an obviously forced smile. “We’ll get you out of there!”

_Just start reading,_ Carlos thought, as the demon bashed a fist uselessly against the invisible barrier of the circle. Ordinary chalk circles shouldn’t do that, Carlos reflected. He wondered what was in it, and resolved to ask if- when he survived this.

Cecil began to read, his deep, sonorous voice giving the words of the spell a life and texture all their own. Carlos felt the demon stir inside him, angry- no, concerned.

Then he saw Katherine coming up behind Cecil, murder in her eyes.

She grabbed his head, reaching for the book with grasping, watery hands. Luckily Dana had seen her too, and ran up, holding something flaming. Carlos realized with a shock that it was a piece of cloth torn off her own dress. The undine drew away from Cecil, hissing, and Dana gave chase. “Keep reading!” she called to Cecil. “I can deal with her!”

Cecil turned, clearly wanting to go after her, but he turned back to the book instead.

The words were in Latin, but Carlos paid no attention to their meaning, only letting Cecil’s words wash over him, hoping that they would do their job.

The demon thrashed, screaming with Carlos’s voice, tearing at Carlos’s hair with Carlos’s hands. Pain began to course through Carlos’s muscles, causing the demon to double over, hissing in agony. Carlos, trapped in a tiny corner of his own mind, could only suffer in silence.

The demon was resisting, though. Carlos could feel his body fighting it, attempting to expel the intruder, bolstered by Cecil’s words and Carlos’s own will, but it was fighting back, digging in deeply, anchoring itself in Carlos’s mind, attempting to take root there.

_NO!_ Carlos pushed back, consciously this time, exerting what little willpower he had, rallying his fragmented mind to push the malevolent presence out of him.

The pain intensified. The demon screamed again, and Carlos could feel his throat becoming hoarse. His head began to throb with a dull, near-blinding ache.

Mercifully, Carlos blacked out.

When he awoke, he was himself again. He gasped, breathing heavily. He tried to sit up, but he felt dizzy and fell back. He realized that he was being cradled in two firm, comforting arms.

“Cecil…”

“Ssh,” Cecil said. “Don’t overexert yourself. Here.” He put something up to Carlos’s lips, and Carlos felt liquid pouring into his mouth. At first he felt a wave of fear, thinking that he was being drowned a third time, but then he relaxed, realizing that Cecil only wanted him to drink some water. He swallowed, then shook his head when offered another sip.

“Oh, Carlos,” Cecil said, voice heavy with relief, “For a moment I thought… I feared…” He trailed off, not needing to elaborate.

Carlos could feel his head beginning to clear. He tried sitting up, and Cecil helped him into an upright position.

“Your hair,” Cecil said mournfully, putting a hand up to Carlos’s head before stopping himself. “That vile monster pulled out quite a bit of it.”

Now that Cecil mentioned it, Carlos could feel a soreness in his scalp. Ah, well. Vanity had never been one of his vices. Still, Cecil’s horrified reaction was endearing.

Carlos looked at Cecil. He was flushed with worry, eyes red-rimmed and still slightly damp. And before Carlos knew what he was doing, he leaned in…

And kissed him.

Just once, just…gently. 

“Carlos,” Cecil breathed, eyes wide.

_Oh God, no, what have I done, what have I_ \- And then Cecil leaned in and kissed him back, and this time it was less gentle, and it certainly happened more than once, and everything was Cecil, Cecil the brilliant, charming monster hunter with the beautiful voice who had just saved Carlos’s life, and everything was perfect.

And then Cecil stopped, pulling away.

Carlos felt his stomach sink again, sure that this time Cecil was going to become hysterical, to call Carlos disgusting, to demand that he leave London and never return.

Instead, Cecil only said, “Dana!”

Oh, shit. Carlos looked around. Dana was nowhere to be seen. He rallied his hazy memories, taking another look at his surroundings. “She went that way,” he said, pointing in the direction he had last seen Dana run. “Help me up. We’ll go after her.”

Carlos moved slowly and unsteadily at first, but with some help from Cecil he quickly got back on his feet, and the two of them ran down the side-street where Dana had chased the undine.

They found them, Dana’s singed skirts lying on the ground, damp and steaming. Dana herself stood, swaying back and forth as if in a trance, although her expression showed that she was trying to fight it.

“She’s strong,” Katherine remarked, hearing the two men approach. “Most can’t resist us for long. Of course, we’re used to charming men.” She fixed them with a cool stare. “We don’t often come across degenerate inverts, and never in such large numbers.”

The accusation made Carlos open and shut his mouth a few times in shock. Not that it was untrue, but hearing it said out loud like that was still startling.

“Let her go!” Cecil said menacingly. “Dana!”

“Come any closer and she dies,” the undine said, and Cecil stopped, fuming. “You know,” she continued wistfully, “I was going to take her with us, let her come to our home with Rigby’s servants. We don’t manage to snare many maidens. She could have been happy there.” Then Katherine’s expression twisted and hardened. “But that was before she murdered my sisters. When I am through with her, she’ll be begging me for a quick death.”

“Let her go,” Cecil said again, a note of desperation in his voice this time.

Katherine laughed, a desperate, angry laugh. Dana’s eyes bulged, and her hands sprang up to her throat. A thin trickle of water began pouring from her mouth.

“Dana!” Cecil ran to her, grabbing helplessly at her shoulders. “No!”

Carlos checked his pocket. There were still some matches there. He pulled them out, taking off his coat as well. 

Then he lit his coat on fire and threw it at the undine.

She let out a pained wail, hissing as the flames licked her arm. Carlos grabbed up the coat again, doing his best to spread the flames around. He held it up against the undine again and again, steam rising from her skin. She tried to fight back, but Carlos overwhelmed her.

Soon it was over.

Dana gagged, coughing up copious amounts of water. Then she took a deep, shuddering breath, and Cecil hugged her tearfully.

Finally he helped her to her feet. He looked elated, but haggard, and gave Carlos a shy, hopeful smile before looking away. “It’s been a long day,” he said. “But we can go home now.”


	8. This Is the Chapter with Sex In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cecil and Carlos have sex. Not much else happens, so if sex scenes aren't your thing, you're free to skip this one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, they're moving much more quickly in this story than in the actual show, aren't they? That's because the show takes place over the course of more than a year and do not have that kind of patience.
> 
> This is my first time publishing a sex scene, and my first time even writing one that isn't femslash, so apologies if it's rough/inaccurate.

The new maid, Vithia, Cecil thought she was called, so hard to keep track anymore, helped Dana to bed as soon as they got home. This left Cecil and Carlos in a bit of an awkward silence.

Finally, Carlos said, “We need to talk.”

Those words, combined with his sombre tone, didn’t sound particularly promising, but Cecil was forced to agree that they did, indeed, need to talk. He and Carlos retired to his study, and dismissed the servants for the night.

Then there was another awkward pause, which Carlos finally broke. 

“Mr. Palmer,” he began stiffly, coughing and running a hand through his tragically mangled hair, “I realize my behavior earlier today was, um, highly inappropriate, and… Well, emotions were running high, and… What I mean to say is…”

“Carlos,” Cecil cut in quickly, “I assure you it’s perfectly alright. If you’ll recall, I was hardly slow to reciprocate.” He felt himself blushing, and quickly looked down at his shoes.

“Cecil,” Carlos said slowly, “we can’t just… We can’t… This can’t continue. Surely you realize that. If anyone were to find out…”

“Nobody has to find out!” Cecil said, looking earnestly at Carlos. “We can keep it a secret. I promise you, nobody has to know.”

“Cecil,” Carlos said, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “how could you possibly promise that? You can’t.”

Cecil considered telling him about Earl Harlan, but he decided that this probably wasn’t the best time for that particular discussion. Besides, he was forced to admit to himself, Carlos was right. There was no guarantee, no matter how careful the two of them were, that they wouldn’t be found out eventually. 

“You’re right,” he said, slumping dejectedly. “I’m sorry. It was selfish of me, asking you to stake your life, your reputation…”

“My reputation?” said Carlos with a disbelieving chuckle. “Cecil, I’m a stranger in London. I have no reputation here. This is your home. It’s your reputation I’m worried about.”

“But I don’t care what people think of me!” Cecil said, leaning forward in his eagerness to show that he meant it. “They can think what they like. If worst comes to worst I can go back to my family estate, or move to Luftnarp. It really doesn’t matter.” 

“Cecil…” Carlos said. He opened his mouth, then, finding no words there, he closed it again.

Cecil took the opportunity to close the distance between them. He sat on the sofa next to Carlos, hesitantly reaching for his hand, and, when Carlos failed to pull away, taking it firmly in his own. 

“Carlos,” he said softly, “be honest. What do you really want?”

Carlos blushed, looked down, muttered something Cecil couldn’t quite catch.

“I’m sorry?”

“I…I just want to be kissing you now.”

“Oh.” It was Cecil’s turn to blush, now. He and Carlos drew closer together. Carlos smelled of sweat, and, Cecil reflected, he probably did as well after their escapades today, but underneath it was a faint aroma of lavender that was so wonderfully _Carlos_. 

They kissed again, gently at first, but gradually becoming rougher, more urgent. Cecil gently ran a hand through Carlos’s hair, what was left of it, anyway. _It will grow back,_ he reminded himself. 

Carlos’s hands were starting to move downward now, and Cecil noticed that his pants suddenly didn’t fit quite right.

“Oh,” he gasped, pushing away for a moment to catch his breath.

“Sorry,” Carlos said immediately, backing up. 

“No, no,” Cecil said quickly. “I just… We…might be more comfortable…upstairs..?” He waited hesitantly for Carlos’s reaction.

“Oh,” Carlos said. “But… Won’t somebody… Catch us?”

“Not if we’re quiet,” Cecil said, placing a hand on Carlos’s shoulder. “Everyone else has gone to bed already.”

Carlos looked uncertain. Finally, he nodded.

“I’ll go up first,” Cecil said, “just in case anyone is still out there. Follow me in five minutes.”

Carlos nodded again, more firmly this time. Cecil kissed him once on the cheek before rising. 

As he’d hoped, the house was still and quiet. He made his way upstairs quickly and quietly, avoiding the fifth step which had a tendency to creak when trod on suddenly. 

He sat on his bed, twisting his hands, wondering if Carlos was coming. After what seemed like an eternity, he heard a knock on the door. 

“Cecil?” Carlos whispered. Cecil sprang up, dashing to open it. He pulled Carlos inside, shutting the door quickly. 

“Carlos,” he breathed, smiling as he pulled the other man close to him. 

Carlos kissed him again, and this time it was rough and needy. Cecil returned it eagerly, running his hands along Carlos’s chest, fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. 

Carlos pulled away to let Cecil work. Once the buttons were undone Carlos pulled it off, giving Cecil a full view of his torso. 

“Carlos,” Cecil breathed, awed. He was beautiful, statuesque even, all thick black chest hair and smooth muscles and deep, turbulent eyes. Um. That thought had gotten away from him somehow. He leaned in again, making this kiss slow, intense.

Carlos came away flustered, and began unbuttoning Cecil’s shirt. Cecil, impatient, pushed his hands away, undoing the rest himself and practically flinging the shirt to the floor.

Cecil pulled Carlos to the bed, and Carlos eagerly followed, pinning Cecil down on the mattress, much to Cecil’s excitement. He ran kisses down Cecil’s neck and chest, sucking at his collarbone until it left a faint bruise. Cecil squealed in pleasure, blushing at the undignified sound. Carlos held a finger to his lips, a reminder to take care not to make too much noise, then smiled and kissed him again.

Cecil, impatient once again, reached for the buttons of Carlos’s trousers. The two of them finished undressing each other quickly, dropping their clothing haphazardly on either side of the bed. 

They were both already very hard; Cecil stroked Carlos’s cock, watching it stiffen further, and eliciting a low moan from Carlos. Cecil held a finger to his lips teasingly. In response, Carlos bucked his hips, rubbing his erection against Cecil’s. 

Cecil saw stars. “Oh, _God_ , Carlos…” he whispered, squirming around in the hopes of feeling that contact again. 

Carlos thrust again, and Cecil moaned. _Oh, God, yes, beautiful, perfect Carlos, it felt so good, he needed more…_

“Cecil…” Carlos gasped, and Cecil felt his heart soar even as he felt himself becoming more and more aroused. He thrust upward, desperate for release, for closeness. 

Carlos, gaining control of himself, aligned their hips. He took his cock and Cecil’s together in one hand, thrusting hungrily. Cecil thrust back, revealing in the beautiful, agonizing friction of himself against his beloved Carlos.

“ _¡Ay Dios mío, Cecil!_ ” Carlos gasped loudly. Cecil leaned his head up and silenced the other man with a warm, breathy kiss. Carlos moaned softly against his lips, and Cecil knew that he was close.

Carlos thrust again and Cecil was unable to contain a deep, low moan as he came into Carlos’s hand.

He reached down, taking Carlos’s cock from him, helping him to his own climax. 

Carlos yelped softly when he came. Then he lowered himself onto the bed next to Cecil, breathing heavily.

Cecil wriggled up close, leaning his face in to Carlos’s. Carlos smiled and kissed him, and Cecil was delighted at how free and easy the action was. He placed his head against Carlos’s chest, sighing a soft, contented sigh. Carlos put an arm around him. 

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the warmth of each other’s bodies. Eventually the sticky sensation of drying semen became too unpleasant, and Cecil got the pitcher of water and towel that he kept on his nightstand so that he and Carlos could clean themselves off.

Carlos murmured that he would need to go soon, and Cecil agreed, but neither of them could quite seem to bring himself to pull away. 

Cecil must have drifted off. He found himself running through empty hallways, fighting against air that moved like molasses. The screams echoed behind him, the faceless presence stirred, gave chase. Up ahead, he knew what was coming…

“Cecil,” said a voice, and suddenly he was in bed, breathing erratically, feeling warm, soft skin on his own. _Carlos_. “Cecil, you were dreaming.”

And Cecil leaned into Carlos’s warm, comforting arms, and slowly drifted off into a calm, dreamless sleep.

Carlos left sometime before dawn, dressing quickly. He whispered only a brief goodbye, but Cecil and Carlos both knew that they would do this again, and soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you've enjoyed the story so far! The next chapter will just be a short wrap-up of the first arc. I'm not sure if or when there will be a second arc, since a long story like this can get kind of time-consuming, but this has been a lot of fun to write!
> 
> ((Bonus points if you caught the Buffy reference! I couldn't resist throwing that one in there.))


	9. Brand New Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new day in the Palmer house. A beginning, and also an end.

Carlos spent an hour pacing in his room, afraid to go downstairs and face everybody. Surely they _knew_ somehow.

He was being irrational. And the longer he stayed up here the more suspicious it would be. No, no, it wouldn’t be suspicious, calm down, Carlos, but he could hardly stay in his room all day, now, could he?

He stopped, taking a deep breath. Then, very slowly and deliberately, he walked to the door. He paused a moment, gripping the handle, and then, gritting his teeth slightly, he turned the knob.

He exhaled, forcing himself to relax, before exiting the room and heading downstairs.

Cecil looked up from a pile of papers, giving him a wide smile. Dana was fiddling with something complicated-looking that he would have to remember to ask about later. Leland, who was serving breakfast, glanced at him only briefly before returning to his work.

“Good morning, Carlos,” Cecil said, smiling an irritatingly alluring conspiratorial smile.

“Good morning,” he said, hoping to sound more casual than he felt, scooting quickly into an unoccupied chair.

“So,” Cecil said, “I’ve been looking into Professor Rigby’s notes. There are a lot of places we could investigate. Potentially months of work. You…are going to stay on with us, aren’t you?” He was hopeful, but just a little uncertain, and Carlos couldn’t stand to keep him in suspense.

“Of course,” he said, and Cecil’s wide smile returned.

Carlos realized that he was smiling as well. He was still aware that this game that he and Cecil were playing was a dangerous one, and he was still worried for Cecil’s sake. But at the same time, he realized with a shock, he had never been happier in his life. He was in London, far away from the expectations and demands of his family, doing important work with the man that he lo- a man he was quickly becoming very fond of.

Dana looked up from her work to take a sip of tea, and Carlos took the opportunity to ask, “What’s that you’re working on?”

“It’s a monster detector,” she said, eyes alight with excitement. “The pendulum was so useful, I thought I would try to make one that works for other creatures as well.”

“How does it-“ Carlos began, but Dana cut him off.

“I’ll explain when- and if- I can ever get it to work,” she said, returning her attention to the little device.

Carlos looked to Cecil, who shrugged. “She’s always like this with her projects,” he whispered. 

“I heard that,” she said, not looking up.

Cecil smiled fondly, and Carlos felt a warmth spreading through his chest. No matter what problems they faced, he was so, so lucky to have found Cecil. 

All of a sudden, there was a loud _bang_. Cecil and Carlos ducked for cover as bits of metal shot around the room.

Carlos looked up cautiously to see Dana frantically gathering up the pieces of her shattered device.

“It detected something!” she said. 

“Oh no,” Cecil said, standing up. “Where’s Leland?”

There was a scream from the next room. 

Carlos pulled himself upright, sprinting in the direction of the yell. This was what he’d signed on for, he realized as he ran. Business as usual in the Palmer house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we've reached the end of our story. I hope you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. I might pick it up again one day, but until then, goodnight, Thin Semantic Lines. Goodnight.
> 
> Oh, come on, I had to do it. Don't judge me.


End file.
